Yours, Mine and Ours
by Cammiel
Summary: Three days apart, longing and possessiveness may end up being the perfect combination.


Hi there! New fic! :D

This story is a response to a prompt given by **WrittenSword.**

My beta was the lovely **In Six **(Go read her fics!), and probably every single thing you like about this fic is her addition to this experiment I decided to try.

This is a M rated fic and it describes an adult, loving relationship between two women. If it isn't your cup of tea, then I suggest another fandom, because seriously, The Devil Wears Prada without lesbian relationships would be extremely boring.

******This fic belongs to the same universe as _I'm sorry_. Reading that fic is mandatory and if you don't... Nah, **you can read this independently**, it's not necessary to read _I'm sorry_, although If you don't read it and send the link to 15 of your friends, none of your wishes will come true AND you'll never find your one true love. You are all warned.

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I'm not Lauren Weisberg, because If I were her I wouldn't piss off Anna Wintour. And no, I have no relation with 20th Century Fox, otherwise I would be somewhere else where there's decent healthcare.

* * *

><p><strong>Yours, Mine and Ours<strong>

Andrea Sachs has been my wife for two years, 5 months and 23 days. Does she have things that drive me crazy? _Absolutely._

I would not call our relationship "typical," for the start was rushed and awkward. To say that I was reticent is an understatement; for the first time in my life I faced the possibility of starting a relationship in harboring a handful of disadvantages. Most would disagree and I don't blame them. I am older, wiser, and richer but those were precisely my biggest disadvantages.

While I am old—and despite how much I loathe other people's attention towards it—kind of bitter, Andrea is young and sweet. While I am wiser, Andrea is carefree and possesses a sense of freedom I have never had. While I am rich and try to compensate my awkwardness and express my feelings through expensive gifts, Andrea could not care less if the watch on her lovely, ivory wrist given to her last Christmas was a Casio or a Cartier. Those were the first issues we had to face.

Once we—and by _we _I indubitably mean _me—_got over it, I encountered a more grandiose disadvantage: Andrea Sachs knew me completely. Andrea Sachs _knows_ me completely. She knows my body language, knows what I want and when I want it. She knows when I feel the need to hide, to seclude myself as if I was indeed alone once again. As if I was once again without her. She knows my biggest hopes and bigger yet disappointments; she knows the weaknesses that are buried deep within me, hidden from prying eyes. While all I knew about this woman was her home state, her efficiency, and competence of a roughly perfect assistant and the fact that she can run miles in a 6 inch Chanel pump and look undeniably sexy, she already knew my soul. Andrea Sachs knew me whilst I tried not to know me myself.

This wasn't nearly enough to start a relationship, but being the headstrong and stubborn woman she is, Andrea convinced me to give us a chance. She opened up, letting me see beyond the girl in the cerulean sweater and even beyond the glamorous and elegant woman she later became. And believe me, she's rather persuasive and skilled when it comes to the sweetest form of allurement. How did I realize this? Well, after rejecting her and trying to hide from my own feelings, trying to convince myself of the impossibility of being a _lesbian_ (at my age nevertheless) I found her standing outside my house, drenched from the rain on the rough concrete steps, waiting for me to change my mind. She followed me for weeks wondrously managing to be invited to every single function, event, and party I was to attend (though I suspect Nigel and Emily had everything to do with it) until, with the help of my own daughters, she cornered me in my own garden the night before Christmas and gave me the best kiss I had ever had.

The rightness of it all was as clear as the sun rising every morning. She had been right all along; we were meant to be, despite the scornful comments and ideas of the "monstrosity" and "wrongness" of it all as many put it. We were so connected, she understood me in levels other partners never could. Caroline and Cassidy fell in love with her completely, taking her in as if she'd belonged with us all along. They love her for she sees them for what they are, as Caroline and as Cassidy, not as the Priestly Twins. They love her for her understatement that although they are twins, they are each their own person, an individual with a soul that will forever resemble its twin yet will do remarkably well on its own. They were truly dumbfounded, as was I, when Andrea proved to be able to tell them apart. Andrea proved she was just as good for them as she was for me.

Once I saw that, I decided it was time for her to move in with us. Imagine my surprise when that sweet mouth of hers gracefully embodied a shy smile, and her voice, velvety soft, refused. I was furious and hurt, and my inability to express my feelings made me leave her apartment without a word. If it wasn't for my daughters and Nigel, I wouldn't have understood Andrea's expectation of a negotiation rather than an order; that's how she ended up in my home office, giving me another example of just how persuasive she can be. That's how she convinced me that the best we could do was get married and move to a new house. She took the reins from my hands without me noticing, taking away all the control I had with the way she looked at me, the way she spoke ever so softly, smiling while those doe-like eyes watched me expectantly. After the final yes, the only things I was _allowed _to keep were the art pieces I'd collected since I can remember, photos of the girls, and my office furniture. That was the time I realized the possessive woman I'd fallen in love with, and strangely, I appreciated such feelings (I just won't tell her).

Our daily life was another issue since I began to uncover these little details that I didn't noticed when we lived in different places. The fact that she only drinks cappuccino is absolutely repulsive, that she actually shops at GAP and Aéropostale is almost offensive (Caroline and Cassidy are equally affronted by that fact) and the fact that she is completely and utterly obsessed with _it_ prove that I am much more tolerant than I had previously claimed to be. Do not get me wrong, _it _is apparently quite comfortable and warm enough but Andrea treats it as if it were a totem given to her by God himself. I am not allowed to _touch it_. Believe me, there is nothing extraordinaire about that cotton Northwestern hoodie.

As of now, she's gone on an assignment for_ Runway _that I know only she would successfully finish. She is my wife but she is also the most talented writer in my staff. She is as dedicated as I, and solemnly believes that a job well done is a thorough job; while I agree and would expect no less of myself, I am unable to sleep without her beside me. I am, however, prepared for the nights I will spend alone because I know she was unable to take _it _with her since Caroline and Cassidy successfully hid it. She will return tomorrow night, but I can't sleep, let alone tell her because she's probably sleeping and I hate looking needy—although that'd what I am. Maybe a drink will ease my mind and welcome the much needed night of dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?" a sleepy voice asked, causing Miranda to turn. Cassidy stood next to her, rubbing her sleepy eyes.<p>

"Looking for something to drink," Miranda managed.

"Can't sleep, huh?" the teenager asked, signaling her mother's glass. Miranda nodded and her daughter poured them a cup of warm milk. It wasn't what she had in mind but it would do.

"Let's go upstairs."

"I miss her." Cassidy blurted suddenly, interrupting their silent walk towards the stair case.

"I do too Sweetheart, but you know she had to go." Her mother whispered as they passed Caroline's room.

Cassidy stopped at her door, briefly disappearing before calling her mother again with a quiet voice, "Take this," she threw the hoodie to Miranda, who caught it instantly. "Leave it in one of her drawers and never ask us to hide it again Mom, she was hysterical."

Miranda sighed, walking towards her daughter with a small smile on her lips. "Thank you, Bobbsey. Good night." She whispered whilst kissing Cassidy's forehead.

Miranda walked quietly to her room, in no hurry to enter, let alone lay in their immense bed without the one person able to make it seem too small. The hoodie in her hand felt warm. She sighed deeply, bringing the hoodie to her nose. Andrea's sweet scent hugged her from within, remembering once again of what she'd missed all her life. She cocked her head; Andrea had her sighing like a 15 year old cheerleader, in love with the captain of the football team. She caressed the fabric, smelling _it_ again. It smelled like Andrea and in less than a second, Miranda had put it on. It was comfortable and warm indeed; it was almost Andrea. She welcomed Andrea's scent against her body, imagining her wife beside her, warm against her as they lay comfortably and entwined in their bed. Miranda entered her bed more relaxed than she had previously been, as if her wife was indeed right there with her.

* * *

><p>"Nice hoodie," a voice softly caressed Miranda's ear.<p>

"Mmm," the older woman hummed contently, smiling. "I thought you would arrive tomorrow."

Andy entered the bed, cuddling against Miranda as if their bodies were one. "I couldn't be away any longer," she breathed against her wife's neck. "Seriously, what have you done to me?" She inquired smiling and the pristine neck in front of her. Miranda shifted, lying face to face with her wife. Andrea's fingers replaced her lips on Miranda's neck, bringing them closer."Take it off," she said seriously. Opening her eyes, Miranda saw Andy's serious expression and moved closer so she could kiss her but Andy drew back. "Take it off," the brunette repeated.

"Andrea Elizabeth Sachs-Priestly, you've been away for three says. Three terrible and miserable days," Andy smiled and kissed her wife's nose before she could continue. "You come back and you tell me you want _this_? I am lying here, and you want _this_?" Miranda spat venomously.

Andy smiled wickedly. "You don't know why I wanted you to take it off," she began, sliding her warm hands through Miranda's hips. Miranda sighed softly, feeling her anger dissipate almost instantly as Andrea continued caressing her skin.

"It's mine now," Miranda said, hugging herself.

"Really? I don't recall giving it to you." The brunette claimed while trying to strip Miranda off her garment.

Miranda stopped suddenly, looking intently at her wife, "Marriage is about sharing, Andrea. But if you want it, we can make a deal. In exchange for this, I want everything you are wearing."

Andy recognized the sparkle in her wife's eyes and sat up, hovering over the older woman as she began to undress slowly. Miranda could see the want in her wife's eyes, the need of them both reflected in those doe eyes that after three days only proved their need for one another. Looking up at Andrea, Miranda let a small smile grace her lips, amazed at how dependent she'd become of the woman standing before her eyes.

With equally lustful eyes, Andy watched Miranda intently. She stood there for a second in nothing but her panties, sure Miranda's eyes would be appreciating the view and not paying attention to get actions as she tried to take off the hoodie. Of course Miranda was quite aware of her wife's course of action and didn't let her. Seeing the challenge in her wife's eyes, Andy smiled and started to tantalize her. She inched closer as if to kiss Miranda but didn't. Miranda's breathe hitched, her fingers started to play with the rim of Andy's panties, lazily caressing her hipbone as she kissed and licked the ivory neck before her. Andy's eyes fluttered closed as she too began to pant heavily, almost giving up her quest. Miranda knew exactly how to make her lose control. Snapping out of her trance with slight difficulty, Andy's hand found Miranda's, bringing them towards her lips. Miranda watched as Andy kissed the unbelievably soft skin, kissing each finger before turning her hand so she could see her wrists, where she gently sucked the older woman's pulse. Miranda closed her eyes, savoring the plump lips against the sensitive patch of skin. Without any notice Andy was on top of her, pinning her down with her hands above her head. Miranda moaned and despite still having the hoodie on she could feel their breasts brushing against one another. Her wife's heated skin seemed to burn through the material making her wish she wore nothing at all. Andy's thighs clenched as Miranda moaned, making her want the woman even more. Andy wanted her and this time she held all the power.

"Take it off," Andy said in a dangerously low voice.

Miranda looked at her intently in the eyes as her hands gripped the brunette's ribs, bringing her closer as she answered in an equally low voice, "No." Her tongue darted to a hardened nipple, causing Andy's knees to buckle and her body to shake. Miranda smiled, taking the nipple between her lips, softly massaging it. Long fingers entwined in Miranda's hair; the strands tickled Andy's fingers, counteracting with her wife's cutting yet supple lips. Equally entranced, Miranda gave the nipple a forceful suck, causing Andrea to yelp, only to be soothed by Miranda's warm tongue. The woman ran her tongue to the other nipple, letting her tongue indulge in the delicious silk-like nub.

Needing more, Andy began to grind against Miranda, pleasuring herself. As a concession, she let her wife do the same, quickly increasing the friction between them. Miranda turned her attention to Andy's other nipple until Andy stopped her to kiss her lips, sliding her tongue inside her lover's mouth; tongues glided warmly against one another, adding a slight pressure before the brunette pulled back slowly, licking her lips. Her hands snaked under the infamous hoodie as she nibbled on the pristine, slightly opened jaw before her.

"Take it off," Andy moaned against Miranda's skin as she approached her lover's ear, then proceed to lick her earlobe. She could feel how Miranda shivered but gave up once she felt Miranda's eyes fixated on hers while her hand moved towards the source of her wetness. Andy felt dizzy and hugged her wife while her fingers reacquainted itself with her sex thought her panties. Andy kissed her neck, eliciting a moan from the older woman as she bit her and then licked the spot, soothing the pain.

Before she could utter a protest, Andy's panties disappeared and Miranda's fingers now moved down, past the source of her ache, ignoring the young woman's groan, towards the impossibly wet spot between her legs. Andy's head fell in the crook of her wife's neck and she uttered a "no" without much conviction of her own protest.

Fighting the ache between her legs, Andy's hands touched her wife's back under the hoodie as her fingers began to move inside her, filling her deeply. Andy's eyes fluttered as she swallowed back a moan, grinding against Miranda's hand. Miranda curled her fingers, slowly moving them in and out while her thumb pressed against her lover's clit. Circles were drawn slowly, adding just the right amount of pressure as they reached the side, to make Andy orgasm. Nails dug into Miranda's back, eliciting a moan from both women. One, feeling the intense heat from her lover's wet sex clenching, and the other quivering with excitement as only her wife could pleasure her by torturing her so sweetly.

As Miranda opened her eyes, she was stunned to find Andy's mouth opened in a silent scream that she knew was meant to echo her name. Waves of pleasure travelled down the brunette's shaking body, leaving Miranda to watch as her wife calmed down, panting heavily. Andy's body collapsed on top of her wife's; she tried, once more, to show the older woman who was in control but only managed to kiss the juncture between the older woman's neck and shoulder whilst trying to get her breathing under control. Miranda smiled, damp head beside her, smiling as she removed her fingers from inside her lover with a delicacy only Miranda possessed. Long arms hugged the older woman in an attempt to feel more of the woman's skin but the older woman still wore the hoodie. Her limp body, now completely tension-free, stayed in place, covering a body that was molded to fit hers.

"You have no idea how I've missed you," said Andy almost humming, nuzzling and nibbling on her wife's neck.

"I do, Andrea, I do." The other woman answered with a sigh, feeling her lover's hands make their way under the hoodie once again. Still atop of her wife, Andy slid her hands up the body beneath her, taking the hoodie and an impossibly thin camisole along. Almost at its destination, the hoodie was stopped by Miranda, who held it dearly between her hands. Both moaned as their bodies touched completely for the first time in three days; goose bumps raced down both bodies, awaking a deep want from each core.

Andy touched Miranda's breasts, avoiding the puckered nipples as they begged to be attended to. Growing impatient, Miranda groaned, wanting to feel her lover's warm mouth enclose the nub but sweet, torturous hands roamed Miranda's body in no rush, touching every inch of her skin yet nowhere. Andy's lips grazed down the woman's collarbone, trailing open mouthed kissed until she reached the hardened peak. Breathing softly on it, she saw the nub wrinkle impossibly tight, only causing her to smirk. Miranda's hands tried to push her mouth against the target spot, but Andy resisted, smiling. Unwavering, the brunette kissed the firm breast beneath her mouth, letting her tongue glide briefly against the tantalizing skin. A mix between a moan and a protest came from the body beneath her, followed by the arching of one's back but Andy was faster, straddling the woman before she could push the nub into the more than willing mouth.

"Andrea, _please_," the woman moaned sensually. Smirking, Andy moved her mouth close to the mounds before her once again. Miranda's fingers gripped the shoulder-length chocolate tresses, feeling their softness against her fingertips. Understanding the urgency in her wife's plea and finally giving in to her own desire, Andy finally lowered her warm mouth into one of the nipples and sucked with desperation. "Andrea!" Miranda screamed while quivering under the brunette's ministrations.

"Shh," Andy hummed as she diverged her attention to the twin nub, making her wife moan. Andy took the previous breast into her hand, giving it a light squeeze before taking the tortured nipple between her fingers, rolling them accordingly as her tongue lapped and licked its twin.

It was moments like these where Miranda fully gave in, understanding that Andrea loved her and burned for her with an intense passion that only love making could tame.

Moving her hands to the slim hips below, Andy's nails tickled the skin before Miranda moaned breathlessly, "Take me now." Andy felt a shiver race down her spine, letting her fingers travel down the sweet road where she indulged in her strongest desires. She felt slick wetness coating her fingers and moaned in sympathy. Miranda's body reacted immediately, urging the younger woman to bring it to its release. With a low pop, Andy released the long forgotten nipple, kissing her wife's body down her stomach, stopping briefly at the scar left by Andy's two treasures—apart from Miranda herself—at their birth.

Miranda had always hated the scar until the first time they had made love. While exploring, Andy discovered it was incredibly sensitive, which now led her to draw inexistent patters with her skin, hearing a soft sigh of approval.

Andy's hand continued to dance, coating her fingers in the impossible wetness but still avoiding the aching clit. Lips moved lower and lower until Andy was positioned between her lover's legs. Ice-blue eyes met desire-filled doe ones, causing their owner to pant heavily in anticipation. Her hands gripped the hoodie, holding on to it in order to feel some sort of control.

Andy blinked twice, taking in the image before her. Miranda's usually coiffed hair was disheveled and damp; it was sexy and quite orgasmic. Still watching the ice-blue eyes, Andy kissed the inside of the woman's thighs, ignoring the rolling hips in front of her. Instead, she sucked the sensitive skin, leaving a red mark where her lips had been.

"Please Andrea," Andy could smell her wife's desire; she was so close she could almost taste her but continued kissing the reddened skin. "I'm very wet."

"I know," she finally answered, finally moving her tongue over Miranda's slit, humming as Miranda shook. "I love your taste," she said before lapping again, satiating her thirst in long licks. Miranda's hips rolled, trying to increase the friction while muffling loud moans with the hoodie.

Knowing her lover was close, Andy slipped her tongue inside her wife, making her moan loudly before muffling the oncoming moans once again. Whilst savoring the sweet taste from its direct source, Andy's finger pressed against the barely-hooded clit. Miranda's hand moved to grab a handful of hair, pushing her lover firmly where she needed her, wanting that talented tongue to move deeper. With other plans in mind, Andy's tongue moved to the hardened clit and her fingers slipped deeply into her wife's warm slit. All too soon, Miranda's thighs closed against Andy's ears, letting her know the woman was close to reaching her climax. With one more slow, drawn-out suck to her clit, Andy felt Miranda's release against her fingers, gingerly licking the contents as it escaped.

As she calmed down, Miranda pulled the woman from between her legs, kissing her deeply, tasting herself against those plump lips she adore so much. Andy smiled into the kiss, covering Miranda's body with hers.

"You are so fucking beautiful." The brunette said simply but with such intensity and honesty that touched Miranda in a way that only Andrea and her daughters could. The older woman closed her eyes as tears burned against her lids. Unsuccessfully hiding them, Miranda felt a kiss being claimed upon her lips, this time asking for entrance. Once accepted, Andy's tongue moved slows against its companion, conveying the enormous and fulfilling love she felt for Miranda.

"That's the best use that hoodie has ever had," Andy laughed, trying to lighten the mood and taking it from Miranda's hands. Andy tried to throw it on the floor, but Miranda's hand caught it before the garment could leave the brunette's hands. Miranda hugged the hoodie close to her chest, inhaling deeply. Andy looked at her quizzically then smiled, seeing Miranda's eyes shine.

"Mine." The younger woman whispered with an air of finality, eying the hoodie.

"No, from now on it's ours."

"I wasn't talking about the hoodie," Andy replied while caressing her wife's hipbone. Miranda laughed and kissed her wife one more time.

* * *

><p><strong>That's all.<strong>


End file.
